Table for Two Page 8

  “Tonight?” she asked. The hopeful tone in Mandy’s voice stirred feelings in Leo that he hadn’t felt in years. Like the excitement of a teenager going on his first date. All those emotions—caused by one word.

  I’m in trouble.

  Leo glanced at his staff sheet to see who was coming in that evening. It was a strong lineup, but he felt uncertain. He wasn’t scheduled to cook, but he felt an obligation to be at one of the restaurants.

  Dating just doesn’t work very well with a chef’s schedule.

  Still, Leo wanted to see Mandy so badly that he decided he’d just have to make it work.

  “Tonight. Six o’clock all right?”

  “Perfect. See you then.”

  * * *

  Mandy set her phone down on the nightstand by her old bed in her parents’ house and then sank onto the bed.

  Leonardo Romano wanted to drive to tiny old Evergreen, Colorado, just to cook dinner for Mandy and her mother.

  That thought left flutters in her stomach. Within twenty seconds, the smile slipped from her face as she thought about her mother meeting Leo. Mandy tossed around the idea of just surprising her mother, not telling her that Leo would be joining them for dinner, or more accurately, he’d be their personal chef for the evening.

  But she knew that a surprise like that could start a world war.

  With a dejected huff, Mandy went downstairs to tell her the news.

  Ten minutes later, she’d already told her twice and yet her mother still sat on the sofa with a confused look on her face.

  “So he’s coming here?”

  Mandy nodded with a patience that could only have been divinely bestowed on her at that moment.

  “Yes, Mom. Leo’s coming over to cook dinner for us tonight.”

  “I thought he had restaurants to run.”

  “He does. But he also has staff to run his kitchens. He doesn’t have to be there every minute.”

  “Why is he coming here?”

  Mandy’s opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again.

  Good question.

  “He wants to, I guess.”

  “Well, you’d better help me into the bathtub. I need to wash my hair. You’ll have to style it for me.”

  Mandy pursed her lips to keep from saying, Yes, Mom. Because it’s all about you. I’m the single gal here, remember? But let’s make sure your hair is styled to perfection.

  Mandy kept her comments to herself, unwilling to start even the slightest squabble with her mother. She spent the next few hours cleaning her parents’ kitchen from top to bottom in preparation for the Leonardo Romano to use it. She set the table with her mother’s good china, and then, as ordered, she helped her mother get ready for their special guest.

  Finally, Mandy dashed upstairs and took a lightning-fast shower and threw on her jeans with the same brown sweater she’d worn to work on Friday. Since she’d left for Evergreen without stopping by her apartment, her choices were limited. She rushed downstairs, lighting candles and finding a Frank Sinatra CD to play on her parents’ stereo. When her mother saw her, Claire simply raised her eyebrows and said, “Aren’t you going to wear some jewelry to liven up that outfit? If you didn’t bring anything with you, go borrow something of mine.”

  With a silent growl, Mandy took the stairs two at a time and shuffled through her mother’s jewelry box, deciding quickly to borrow her pearl earrings. Once she was back downstairs, her mother insisted she light a fire in the fireplace so Mandy trudged outside and dragged in a few sticks of firewood and got a fire going.

  Five minutes after six o’clock, Mandy’s heart jolted at the sound of the knock at the door. She rushed downstairs and took a breath before opening the door.

  There stood Leo. Mandy was glad he couldn’t see her heart skip a beat.

  Come on, Mandy, calm down. Don’t get so excited.

  “One chef at your service, ma’am,” Leo said. Mandy beamed back at him.

  “Come in, Mr. Romano. I’m very glad to see you.”

  Mandy opened the door and motioned for Leo to come in. He held two stuffed grocery bags in his arms and she took one from him.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Mandy whispered, leading him down the hallway. Leo looked at her, puzzled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Meeting my mother. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  The confident, self-assured look in Leo’s eyes was enough to make Mandy’s heart pound.

  “I’m ready, Mandy.”

  Leo’s tone seemed so unquestionable that Mandy had to wonder just what he was ready for. To meet her mother? Or something more?

  After setting the bags down on the kitchen island, Mandy led Leo to where her mother was sitting on the sofa.

  “Leo, this is my mother, Claire Seymour. Mom, this is Leonardo Romano.”

  Leo held out his hand and shook her mother’s warmly. His dark eyes focused solely on Claire.

  “Mrs. Seymour, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Leo.”

  With one look, Mandy knew her mother was more than impressed.

  Of course, he’s gorgeous and well mannered. Who wouldn’t be impressed? Wait till she tastes his cooking.

  “Welcome, Leo. And please call me Claire. Make yourself at home here. My kitchen is yours tonight.”

  Mandy’s heart softened at her mother’s hospitality and the kindness in her voice.

  My mother, the consummate hostess.

  “Thank you,” Leo said before turning his gaze to Mandy. “Come along, Mandy.”

  Mandy blinked. “What?”

  “I need a sous chef so...I need you.”

  That was a loaded statement. He’s either flirting with me or he’s unaware of how appealing he is.

  Mandy licked her lips and smiled back, hoping he didn’t have an idea of how strongly he affected her.

  “Well, then, chef, I’m yours,” she said, her voice light and carefree.

  Two can play at this game, Mr. Romano.

  * * *

  Mandy inhaled the smell of garlic and listened to the sound of breaded chicken cutlets frying in olive oil.

  “Keep chopping,” Leo ordered as he kneaded the dough in front of him.

  Mandy suppressed a chuckle at Leo’s bossiness. There was no mistaking his chef status in the kitchen. She finished chopping one tomato and reached for an onion. Leo watched as she minced the onion.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” Leo asked, obviously impressed. Mandy shrugged.

  “My mother.”

  “You’re an even better sous chef than I expected.”

  “I love to cook. I just wish I had more time to practice.” Mandy held back from telling him what she was really thinking: that working side by side with him in the kitchen felt wonderful. She loved the easy way they worked together, the comfortable moments of silence, the look on Leo’s face as he concentrated on the task in front of him, how strong and yet graceful his hands were as they prepared dinner.

  “Mandy, drain the pasta...please,” Leo said, his eyes focused on the dough. His almost-black hair fell over his forehead in a way that made Mandy want to reach over and brush it back.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I brought dessert already made,” Leo said as Mandy strained the boiling water from the spaghetti noodles.

  “Since you brought tiramisu, which, as you know, is one of my weaknesses, I can forgive you this time.” From where she stood at the sink, Mandy looked over her shoulder at him. He stopped what he was doing and looked straight back at her.

  In that moment, inundated by mouth-watering smells of fresh mozzarella, parmesan and onion, the look in Leo’s dark eyes made Mandy’s mouth go dry. He left what he was doing and moved next to her, pausing
to stir the tomato sauce simmering on the stove.

  “Taste this for me, Mandy,” he said, holding the spoon out to her.

  Those just might be the most romantic words that have ever been spoken to me.

  Mandy tasted the sauce and licked her lips. “Perfect.”

  Leo grinned. “Good.”

  “Aren’t you going to taste it?” Mandy wondered. Leo shook his head.

  “I don’t need to. If Mandy Seymour, respected food critic, tells me it’s delicious—then I know it’s ready.”

  Mandy blushed and looked back down at the bubbling tomato sauce. “So you trust me when it comes to tomato sauce?” she quipped.

  Leo tucked a strand of Mandy’s hair behind her ear.

  “Among other things. Do you trust me, Mandy?” Leo asked in a low voice. Mandy stared up at him, enjoying the close proximity to him and the playful look in his eyes.

  “Only when it comes to tomato sauce,” she said with an impish smile.

  * * *

  Leo looked down at his cell phone in frustration. This was the third call he’d received in two hours. He leaned against the counter and answered the phone, watching Mandy carry dishes of chicken parmesan to the dining room table.

  “Angelina, what’s up?” Leo asked, being careful to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

  “Leo, we’ve got a guy here whose credit card has been declined. Actually, every card he’s given us has been declined.”

  “Is it a large order?”

  “Just over a hundred dollars.”

  Leo groaned. “Okay. Ask for a business card, his driver’s license and a phone number. Take down all his information. Tell him to come back and pay with cash by tomorrow or we will have to involve the police.”

  “Got it. Hey, sorry to keep interrupting the date. How’s it going?”

  “Bye, Angie.”

  Leo could hear his cousin giggle as he hung up the phone. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and joined Mandy and her mother at the table.

  “May I pray for us?” Leo asked. He saw the surprise on Claire’s face as she smiled and nodded. After blessing the food, Leo passed the main-course platter to Claire first. He watched intently as she took her first bite. There was always something about that first bite—Leo could see whether he’d created a masterpiece or just a mediocre dish. The way Claire’s eyes closed and her sigh told Leo everything he needed to know. He grinned in satisfaction.

  “Delicious!” Claire exclaimed. Mandy took a small bite and complimented Leo, as well, but something felt off. Leo knew without a doubt that Mandy’s sensitive palate would appreciate the flavors of the meal so he wasn’t sure what the problem was.

  It didn’t take long for him to figure it out.

  Claire’s presence restricted Mandy. Her conversation, the small portions that Mandy ate—everything seemed constrained compared to their evening together at El Camino Blanco. The way Mandy glanced at her mother frequently, followed her mother’s lead in conversation and hesitated before reaching for a platter.

  “I never thanked you, Mandy,” Leo said suddenly. Mandy seemed confused.

  “For what, Leo?”

  “For helping out at Romano’s the other night.”

  Mandy blushed. “Liz told you.”

  Leo tore a piece of garlic bread in half and handed one half to Mandy. She hesitated for a moment before taking it from him, their fingers brushing each other. Leo liked the feeling of sharing with her. It reminded him of that first night when they’d shared dessert.

  “We were having a really rough night at both restaurants, we were short-staffed and one of our main chefs went home ill. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Mandy was at our Franklin location. After closing, she stayed and helped clean up,” Leo explained to Claire. He looked over at Mandy and found it hard to look away. Her hair fell softly over her shoulders. The freckles scattered over her nose combined with her expressive eyes fascinated him. “You didn’t have to. Why did you stay?”

  Mandy shrugged. “You needed help.”

  Leo felt a lump in his throat and quickly reached for his glass of water.

  Those few words were so much more accurate than she could know. With everything going on in his life, Leo felt as though he were desperate for help.

  “Your daughter is a very special woman,” Leo said, hoping neither Claire nor Mandy noticed the catch in his voice.

  Claire was quiet for a moment.

  “Yes, she is.”

  After that, Leo felt a shift in the atmosphere. Mandy seemed to relax somewhat. By the time Mandy served the tiramisu, the mood at the table was one of enjoyment.

  Leo thought of his dad. Gabriel Romano believed that dining should be enjoyed, that food should bring people together. In that moment, it occurred to Leo how important those things were to him, too. As clear as day, Leo could remember time and again, his mother cupping his face in her hands and saying, “You are your father’s son, Leonardo.”

  He used to feel aggravated when his mother would say that. The phrase made him bristle, as though he were just a copy of his dad; it left no room for his individuality. But as the years passed, Leo had found it to be the highest compliment he could receive. And more true than not.

  As he sat watching Mandy interact with her mother, Leo could instinctively gather that Claire’s opinion mattered more to Mandy than she would ever admit. Didn’t her mother realize how unique Mandy was? How talented, gifted and special Mandy was?

  From the outside looking in, Leo had no doubt it would take much more time—and openness on Mandy’s part—for him to understand the layers of Mandy’s relationship with her mother. But he knew one thing: He wanted Mandy to know that he saw those things in her.

  They’d moved to the living room to enjoy their coffee. Leo accepted the cup that Mandy offered him. In some ways, Mandy reminded him of his own mother—an excellent hostess with a servant’s heart.

  As his cell phone rang once more, Leo felt torn between his guilt for not being at the restaurants when he was needed and his increasing desire to stay in Mandy Seymour’s presence as long as possible.

  Chapter 9

  By the time Leo left, Mandy knew he’d won her mother over completely. The three of them had sat in front of the fireplace, drinking decaf French vanilla coffee and chatting for nearly forty-five minutes. Mandy and Claire had listened as Leo talked about his parents and his sister, life as a restaurant owner, his favorite dishes and the things he loved most about living in Colorado.

  At one point, Mandy feared that her mother was asking Leo too many questions about himself, but his engaged and affable manner set her mind at ease. Mandy appreciated his sociable and outgoing style. Rather than being shy or withdrawn, Leo easily made conversation and could definitely captivate an audience with his warm charm.

  In short, he had all the qualities of the type of man Mandy found herself attracted to.

  As they’d stood on the front porch to say goodbye, the air so cold that Mandy could see her breath, she’d felt a surge of hopefulness that Leo might kiss her. If she was reading him correctly, the look in his eyes conveyed to her that he wanted to kiss her just as badly. But he’d simply hugged her and promised to call her soon.

  Mandy locked the door behind Leo and walked back through the quiet house. Her mother had gone up to bed, giving Mandy a perfect opportunity to analyze every moment of the evening. Mandy rather wished that Ashley was with her to talk through each detail. She poured herself another cup of coffee, curled up on the sofa and opened her heart to pray.

  Father, I’m just a little concerned that Leo is too perfect. I’m not really sure what he sees in me. When I look at him, I see a man who’s handsome and talented and family oriented—and someone who could have any woman he wants. So why is he spending time with me? I keep
telling myself not to fall too hard because I just might get my heart broken.

  Mandy didn’t hear any voices from heaven dispelling her uncertainty, but a sense of peace that she knew came from God washed over her and filled her with contentment.

  The next morning, Mandy came downstairs to find her mother already in the kitchen, stirring a pot of oatmeal.

  “You must be feeling better!” Mandy exclaimed.

  Claire motioned for Mandy to sit down at the breakfast table. “I am. My back is still tender, but I’m feeling better today. I know you need to get back to Denver. You have your work. And besides, your father will be home this afternoon.”

  Mandy accepted the bowl her mother handed her. She couldn’t help feeling nostalgic for all the mornings she’d spent as a little girl, eating oatmeal for breakfast. She still loved her mother’s blend of cinnamon and sugar and raisins mixed into the thick porridge.

  “What did you think of Leo?” Mandy wondered. Her mother poured two glasses of orange juice and then gingerly sat down in the seat across from Mandy.

  “Well, he’s wonderful,” she said. Her mother’s eyes twinkled.

  “Oh, good. I was worried you wouldn’t like him,” Mandy laughed. But her laughter faded as she again wondered what Leo liked about her and whether he had any serious intentions toward her. “You’re probably wondering what he sees in me,” Mandy said.

  Claire frowned. “I know what he sees in you, Amanda,” her mother said. “And it’s what I’ve, unfortunately, overlooked at times when I should have been the first one to tell you. He sees what I see—a beautiful, capable woman with a sweet, compassionate spirit and a heart to please God. That’s who you are, Mandy.”

  Mandy didn’t want to cry, but she found herself unable to hold back her tears. She’d waited years to hear her mother say those things, and the fact that they were obviously being spoken with sincerity made the walls surrounding Mandy’s heart crumble. She looked straight at her mother, her heart so full it hurt.

  “To be honest, Mom, what Leo sees when he looks at me isn’t as important to me as what you see.”

  Her mother reached across the table and touched Mandy’s hand.